Violet Eyes
by My Alibi
Summary: 1x2. Heero tries to face a life without Duo... [Warning, slash, death fic, suicide]


Violet Eyes  
  
AN// I had to. That's all I'll say. *hides*  
  
Disclaimer// I do not own Gundam Wing, or anything of the sort. I do not own these lyrics, either. I cut the last repeat of the chorus off, just because it was running on and I thought it would be best to cut it off then.   
  
Warning// Yaoi implications, 1x2. Indications of death. I won't even give a summary this time.  
  
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Heero traced the picture of the violet eyed gundam pilot, eyes a bit glazed. He didn't feel anything, not now. He was too numb to know grief and hatred. Not now. Not after the fact, and his life was useless.  
  
[Send away for a priceless gift]  
  
He'd fought all those years, because he was a soldier. Somehow, that had never quite been enough. He'd never known a true purpose until Shinigami had come crashing into his life, and his heart.   
  
He'd had a purpose then. Build a life, and a peace, for him and his beloved violet eyed pilot. He'd never told Duo, until the peace had come and become nearly final. He and Duo had loved each other all that time, but they'd never said anything about it until the had a chance for a life together.   
  
[One not subtle, one not on the list]  
  
Then Duo had gotten sick. The light in his eyes had begun to fade, slowly. Heero had raged and wept and been numb, but that hadn't stopped Duo from getting worse. The doctors told him that Duo had just been through too much during the war. His body didn't have it in it to fight off the virus.   
  
Duo had died.   
  
[Send away for a perfect world]  
  
The picture was of the two of them, about a month before Duo had gotten sick. Duo was smiling... even Heero had a small content look on his face. They'd been happy, together.   
  
Then fate had to come in and screw his life up again. Why did it have to be Duo?! Why not him?!  
  
'It would have been Duo on the couch, then... all alone.' his mind had to interrupt. He clenched his eyes closed and felt the frame of the picture breaking in his hand. The glass cracked, shattered, and sliced into his calloused skin.   
  
He didn't feel a second of pain.  
  
[One not simply so absurd]  
  
"Why did he have to die?!" Heero screamed, letting his rage and grief lift him from the couch. He held onto the picture as a final lifeline and slammed his other fist through the tv screen. He didn't feel pain then, nor when he raged and shredded the living room, the kitchen.   
  
Pacing brought no comfort, but he felt drained. Tired, now that his rage had faded leaving him with an aching, unrelenting grief.  
  
[In these times of doing what you're told]  
  
His world seemed to fade, and scenes filled his mind. Scenes of the war, and of the times he and Duo had met up during it. He'd never even been nice to him, not once, while the war raged. He'd barely been able to keep the uncaring facade up each time he saw the hurt in Duo's eyes, but he'd managed.   
  
He'd completed his missions, and done as he was told. He'd survived, despite how much he'd wanted to die on the battlefield. He'd survived because Duo would be waiting for him at the end of the war.  
  
[You keep these feelings, no one knows]  
  
Not once had Duo suspected his true feelings for him. Not even once. Apparently, however, he'd had his own feelings that were hidden. Heero hadn't sensed them, at least.   
  
No one had even suspected they would end up together, after the fighting.  
  
[What ever happened to the young man's heart]  
  
Heero slumped against the wall by the stairs, head buried in his arms and forehead pressed against the remains of the picture. Tears slipped down his face, staining the revealed photo.   
  
They'd had less that a full year together. It just wasn't fair. It wasn't fair!  
  
[Swallowed by pain as he slowly fell apart]  
  
Sobs tore at him chest, at him. His throat was raw and ached, his eyes swollen from the tears before he managed to stand and stumble up the stairs to the bedroom they'd shared. He'd refused to wash the sheets, to erase Duo's smell from the room. He collapsed into the bed and tried to pretend that Duo was just away for awhile, that he would be awoken in the morning and find the chestnut braided pilot sleeping peacefully next to him.   
  
Pretending didn't work anymore.   
  
[And I'm staring down the barrel of a .45]  
  
He clenched his fists around the pillow and buried his face into it.   
  
How long had it been now? A month, a year... a week? It felt like eternity. Heero lay there, numb, and unable to move. Finally, he stirred a little.  
  
It had been just more than a week. The funeral had been two days ago. Open coffin, for the last chance to say good-bye.   
  
Heero had been told it was a beautiful funeral, and that dozens had come.   
  
He hadn't been one of them. He'd tried, but collapsed to the ground in tears before he could even leave the house.   
  
Quatre and Relena had come to see him that afternoon, and found him floating face down in the bathtub. They must have come just in time to save him, because he'd woken up later with them both standing over him.   
  
[Swimming through the ashes of another life]  
  
Quatre was coping well, for someone that sensitive. Relena had looked drawn and pale. She was roundly pregnant with her first, due anytime. She'd already decided to name the baby Duo.  
  
Heero had numbly asked them to leave, but they'd remained with him all night. When he'd broken down, they'd gotten him a cold washcloth to wipe his eyes and glasses of water to keep his throat from swelling.   
  
But neither of them could bring Duo back.  
  
[No real reason to accept the way things have changed]  
  
Without Duo, there was nothing. Heero's life was the useless empty shell it had always been, and he was tired of being alone.   
  
Tired of being alone.  
  
He wanted Duo back.  
  
[Staring down the barrel of a .45]  
  
So he got up, finally, and found a notebook. He'd found it among Duo's things after... just after. It apparently had been a journal that the young man had kept for years. It was almost completely written in, only one page left.   
  
The notebook told of all the hardships of the war, and of Duo's feelings about everything. Including him.   
  
He hadn't finished reading it. It wasn't fair, he thought. Duo wouldn't have wanted him reading it.   
  
So he just turned to the last page and started to write.   
  
[Send a message to the unborn child]  
  
His writing was neater that Duo's, and less scrawled. In his precise writing, he wrote the final entry.   
  
'You left me... but I'm not staying behind, Duo... for any who may find this, this is a piece of the puzzle that Duo really was. This is who 02 really was. I can't live without him, and I don't want to. I'm sorry.'  
  
[Keep your eyes open for awhile]  
  
He closed the notebook and held it close to his chest for awhile. Eyes open, but glazed. He couldn't breath, and yet he had to. He had to finish this.   
  
He didn't know how long he laid there, clutching the notebook.   
  
Finally he moved.  
  
[In a box high up on the shelf, left for you, no one else]  
  
He stashed the notebook in the same box he'd found it in. Who would find it? He didn't know. He just hoped that whoever did, would be able to understand Duo the way that he had.   
  
Who Duo had really been.   
  
[There's a piece of the puzzle known as life]  
  
As he wandered into the house, he thought of Relena's unborn son. He hoped that the boy had an easier life than the person who he'd be named after.   
  
He hoped that his mother would understand, that all of his adopted uncles would too.   
  
He was too numb to care more than that.  
  
[Wrapped up in guilt, sealed tight]  
  
He clenched his eyes closed and steadied himself before opening the lock box that Duo had bought them. 'We don't have to stay armed all the time now.' he'd said as he put his favorite handgun in. Heero had humored him and put his own in.   
  
He chose Duo's this time.  
  
[Whatever happened to the young man's heart]  
  
Clenching callous fingers around the handle, he wished just one more time for Duo to come back. For him to hear mischievous laughter from all ends of the house.  
  
Nothing happened and he lost all faith of being happy again.   
  
[Swallowed by pain as he slowly fell apart]  
  
Hands uncharacteristically shaking, he wandered into the den, what had been Duo's favorite room.   
  
Video games and cd's strewn across the floor gave the room that charm that Duo had been here recently. He sat on the couch and stared at the small world where Duo had retreated to for hours, especially when Heero wasn't home.   
  
He touched one of the controllers. He'd never even bothered to learn about these games, though Duo had tried to teach him a few times.   
  
He regretted it, like he regretted a thousand other things.   
  
[And I'm staring down the barrel of a .45]  
  
He looked at the gun. The hand grips felt different, suited to Duo's hand and not his. He ran a hand along the barrel, and winced a little.   
  
[Swimming through the ashes of another life]  
  
He lifted the gun and pointed it under his own chin. There was no life here without Duo. There just wasn't.   
  
He couldn't breathe without Duo here, and he'd been slowly dying as Duo had.   
  
[No real reason to accept the way, things have changed]  
  
He wasn't going to accept this. Never. Closing his eyes, his finger found the trigger and shook a little there.   
  
[Staring down the barrel of a .45]  
  
He closed his eyes. At least he wouldn't make whoever found him look into lifeless eyes.   
  
And he pulled the trigger.   
  
Seconds after he hit the ground, the phone rang. Once, twice... on the third ring the answering machine picked up.   
  
"Heero! Relena just gave birth to her baby. She named him Duo Maxwell Dorlian... Heero, he looks just like Duo did."  
  
-Fin; Alibi 


End file.
